


When I'm Near U

by 2891



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Inspired by Music, Lo-fi, Slow Dancing, cigarettes and coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 22:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2891/pseuds/2891
Summary: Arthur and Sophie run into each other at a diner in the middle of a rainy night, and keep each other company.
Relationships: Sophie Dumond/Arthur Fleck
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	When I'm Near U

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Joker (2019) characters used for entertainment purposes only. 
> 
> Song lyrics in // italics //
> 
> EDIT [2020.01.24] : I beta'ed this more thoroughly and uploaded the revised version today. Enjoy :)

The raindrops tapped softly on the windowsill - tap, tap, tap - the repetitive noise making Sophie drowsier than she already was. She ran a tired hand down her face and sighed, going back to the writing in her notebook. Not five minutes had passed when she pushed it and the pen aside again. She stared at the uninspired gibberish for a long while, feeling anger pool in her stomach at her writer’s block. Deciding it was no use for tonight, she reached for her mug and brought it to her lips, pursing them in disgust at the taste of the cold and bitter dregs of what was left of her coffee. Muttering a string of curses under her breath, she fumbled in her bag for a cigarette. That would at least keep her awake. Yet there were none to be had, for the pack was empty. She cursed again out loud, not bothered to care anymore, and sank back into the scratchy, broken plastic of the diner chair, defeated. 

When she opened her eyes, he was there, sitting across from her, holding up an extra cigarette he had just lit with his. 

A flurry of questions went through her head but her tired mind locked onto the cigarette and she took it. He smiled; that same weird, creepy smile he had given her in the elevator, but then looked down, embarrassed. The awkward attempt at connecting made her smile, realising he was just trying to be social (and kind of failing). She took a long inhale, feeling relaxation finally seep into her and exhaled a “thanks” with a breath full of smoke. 

He giggled, which she found kind of cute, and it reminded her of their brief encounter in the halls of their horrid apartment building some weeks ago. She remembered the finger gun gesture she had done then, and she repeated it now, eliciting that odd smile from him again. She was so tired tonight, and therefore, at her most honest. 

“Don’t do that! You’ll get it all over me! Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of clothes?” He blurted out with a chuckle. The comment took her aback a little. It sounded like a joke, and yet it didn’t. Even he seemed to notice. 

“I’m sorry. That’s not very funny, is it? Gotta work on my material some more, I suppose.” He stood there, scratching his head with a sheepish grin. 

“Material?” She inquired, taking another drag. She was starting to feel better, and more alert, but she could still feel the need for more caffeine. 

“I want to be a stand-up comedian. Its my life-long dream,” he explained, tapping the ashes of his cigarette off on the metal ashtray on her table. 

Tap, tap, tap...

She didn’t realise she had been staring until she felt the heat of the lit butt near her fingers. Remembering her manners, she urged him to sit down, and he seemed incredibly pleased to have been invited to do so, promptly taking seat in front of her. For a while, all they did was sit and smoke in silence, watching the drops of water slide down the large windowpane, bathed in pinks and blues from the neon signs outside. How long they did that for, she couldn’t say, but she found it strangely soothing; drifting to the sound of the falling rain with her oddball of a neighbour in the near empty diner across from their building. When was the last time she sat in comfortable silence with someone? She couldn’t even remember, and it wasn’t due to exhaustion that she couldn’t.

“I was sitting in the back when you came in, and I was just watching you.” He broke the comfortable silence with his soft, squeaky voice. “I mean, I wasn’t ‘watching’ watching... You looked a bit upset - well, not that I mean you are - I mean... You seemed to want a cigarette, and I thought I could help… I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortab-”

“No, it’s OK,” Sophie interjected, ending his disjointed diatribe. “Thank you, uh… Actually, what's your name?” She realised they’d been neighbours for a while now and she’d never asked. 

“Arthur. Arthur Fleck.”

“Hi Arthur.” Sophie extended her hand, catching his in a handshake. “I’m Sophie. Sophie Dumont.”

“Hey Sophie. Nice name.” 

She smiled. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a more forthcoming neighbour. Not that our fellow neighbours are, either. Everyone keeps to themselves, and that’s probably better, we’re all weirdos there anyways,” Sophie added, hooking her fingers through the handle of her mug. She really wanted another cup, but her money had run out. 

Arthur looked down, but smiled. Suddenly he lifted his face up and said in a funny, high-pitched voice, “and don’t get me started on the oddball in J-8! I hear he’s mad as a clown! Honk, honk!” He beeped, squeezing a red clown nose on that he had fished out of his pocket and put on his nose, making Sophie laugh loudly.

“Hey, that’s pretty funny!” She couldn’t help throwing her head forward with a grin that went ear to ear because of the laughter. Arthur sat back and smiled, but this time, his face was relaxed and calm. He sank back into the chair comfortable, with his face up and his back straight, folding his arms across his chest and crossing his legs in an elegant posture, completely different from before. Sophie noticed then he was actually kind of handsome. 

She went back to fumbling with her mug for lack of something to do with her hands, which caught Arthur’s attention. “Do you want another one?” He asked but Sophie shook her head. “I ran out of money.” “On me,” he insisted, and got up to the counter to ask the sleepy waitress behind the counter for two black ones, with some cream and sugar. 

Skinny, but graceful; a little wan but endearing. Sophie studied him while he was up ordering the drinks, surprising at her own peaked interest in her weird neighbour. I definitely have an eccentric taste in men, she thought to herself, thinking of Gigi’s father as well. 

“Here you go.” Arthur placed a mug of steamy fragrant coffee in front of her. Sophie took it happily and brought the cup to her face, closing her eyes and taking in the warmth and smell. 

“Thank you, Arthur.” She took a long sip. He just nodded back and sipped on his drink as well. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing to her notebook and pen on the table.

“That would be  _ my _ material,” she replied, with a long sigh, “that I gotta work on too.”

His ears perked up. “You’re pursuing a career in comedy too?”

Sophie shook her head, smiling. “Nah. Hip-Hop. I’m a musician. Well, I wanted to be, before Gigi.” She took another drag, releasing it quickly. “She’s at my mom’s tonight, and I couldn’t sleep so I came here to write, see if I could come up with some lyrics, but nothing is coming to mind. Ugh, it’s so frustrating.”

“I hear you, sister,” Arthur rolled his eyes, joking. Sophie giggled at his attempt at ghetto talk. He’s rather cute, she decided again. 

“Can I see?” He pressed on. Sophie tensed up a little. “Uh... yeah, sure.” She handed him the notebook, though she felt her stomach tense back up in a knot, like when she was struggling with the verses earlier. 

Arthur leafed through her notebook, each page turned making Sophie more uncomfortable. She felt so insecure about her ideas, and rarely shared them with anyone. She thought she had given up on that dumb teenage dream of becoming a hip-hop artist, but found herself picking up the notebook again and again. Usually at night, when Gigi was fast asleep, or when she herself was unable to, imagining rhymes and witty social commentary she wanted others to think about, all to the sound of deep, relaxing beats she would drift to, in her imagination. 

But now her oddball neighbour was rummaging through that private world and who knows what he’ll say or think. Why should she care what he thinks anyways? It’s not like she’s any good. 

“Hey this is good!” He exclaimed. “ ‘When I’m near u - I die a little’... I like that line. Very sad,” he mused, making a sad clown face by putting his fingers in his mouth and pulling the corners downwards. “Or happy, depending how you look at it,” he pulled upwards then, giving his face a creepy grimace. 

Sophie sat back, a little perturbed. “I... thank you, I think. That’s inspired by another song. I was trying to do a remix but-,” she cut herself off. 

“But what?”

“Nah, it’s just not good.”

“I think it is. I’d love to hear you sing someday.”

She smiled. “Thanks Arthur. But honestly, I should just forget about it. I can’t get anything good out. I’m just driving myself crazy sitting here trying to write something. I should just stop and focus on my job. On Gigi, you know? Normal life.”

Arthur listened in silence, and just took a long sip of coffee, before setting the cup down quietly. He lit another pair of cigarettes, and handed her one. “And how’s that going for you?”

“Like shit,” she admitted, taking the cigarette. 

“I tried to do that too. Once...” he said, playing with his cigarette as he spoke. “Forget about my dream, and just focus on work and taking care of my mother. But you know how dreams are; they show up, again and again, like a little pest!” He made a gesture of catching a fly in the air with his hands. When he opened them, there was a prop flower in his palm, that he offered to her. “They just don’t leave you alone, do they?”

“I guess so!” Sophie agreed and took the fake flower in her hand. She squealed when the flower suddenly spurted water, secretly activated by Arthur with a little pump hidden in his vest. They both laughed loudly, making the sleepy waitress grunt grumpily for having her sleep on the counter disturbed.

“In another life, or an alternate universe perhaps, maybe you’re a famous performer and I’m an accomplished musician, and we’re friends there too.” Sophie sighed, letting out a soft line of smoke, pondering how different life could be, if only...

“So we’re friends in this one?” Arthur asked, his eyes gleaming.

Sophie cocked her head, pensive. You know what? Why not? 

“Yeah Arthur. We are.” 

Arthur suddenly stood up. “In that case, may I ask my friend to a dance?”

Sophie looked at him, surprised. “Dancing? Now?”

Arthur extended his hand to take hers. “Yes, come on. I know the song you were writing about. I can hum it and we can dance to it.”

Sophie was speechless for an instant. Surely it was an odd request, but then again, so was her companion and, truly, how much weirder could the evening get? It was the middle of the night, it’s raining like a waterfall, in a garbage-filled, rat-infested burrough in Gotham. It was just them in a near-empty diner and frankly, she was so tired. Of everything; of trying to do the right thing, of working hard, of being a good mom, and trying to pursue her dreams despite all the obstacles, but it was just too hard, and she was just too tired, poor and alone. In front of her was a sweet guy asking her to dance. Someone, who like her, knows only too well what it feels like to try and try, and keep getting shut down, and yet feel compelled to keep trying. 

So she said yes. 

Arthur circled around the booth quickly to glide his dancing feet towards her and pull her out of her seat, and in the end, she gave in, falling into his arms and led to the checkered floor in a spin to a rhythm and melody that only Arthur could hear.

“Wow Arthur! You’re a really good dancer,” Sophie giggled as Arthur dipped her dramatically.

“I know,” he replied with feigned pomposity, but a wide smile gave his elation away. 

_ // And when you’re near _

_ There’s such an air _

_ Of spring about it _

_ I can hear _

_ A lark somewhere _

_ Begin to sign about it // _

They laughed and giggled and circled around the linoleum floor as if it were the finest of ballrooms; as if Sophie were wearing the fanciest of ball gowns and Arthur the most distinguished of suits. He held her with such delicacy and grace that Sophie felt tempted to ask if he had ever been professionally trained, and she did, but all he said was that he always felt he had music inside him, that just wanted to come out, and that if he didn’t let it, it just would, like his laughter. 

“But if I do it like this,” he explained, falling into a slower step,“then I feel like myself, and I don’t feel so alone or in pain anymore. Keeping it inside hurts. Doesn’t it hurt for you?”

Sophie thought about it. “Yeah, actually. Not making music hurts. It’s like death.” She put her arms around his neck, and without noticing, pressed herself to him. He felt so warm. “But this feels like living.”

The man she was dancing with was no longer Arthur, her odd, shy neighbour, but someone darker, more intense, who slid his hands down her waist and pulled her in close, close enough for him to rest his forehead upon hers. Arthur’s soft humming lulled her into a dream, so real and vivid, she could almost hear the music like a high-definition record in her ears. The electric green of his soulful eyes was hypnotising. Suddenly, Sophie felt her own face pulled into his, and with a slight angling of her head, her lips found his and she pressed herself on his mouth. He seemed to expect her, and received her openly, kissing her back with such passion and tenderness Sophie briefly forgot the world, leaving just them, and the music. 

_ // There’s no love song finer, _

_ But how strange the change from major to minor // _

When they pulled back, Arthur was Arthur again and for a brief moment, Sophie almost regretted her indiscretion. But when he smiled at her again, there was something in his sparkling green eyes that made her realise the man that had danced with her was somewhere in there, still begging to come out.

And she wanted to know him better. 

“Let’s go dancing sometime, Arthur,” Sophie said. “For real.”

“Really? Like, as a date?”

“Yes. Exactly like a date.” 

He insisted on walking her home (making her giggle again), and they left the diner, hand in hand, back to their old, awful building, surrounded by garbage and (super) rats. Although it was a short walk from the diner to the entrance, the heavy rain drenched them, yet they did not mind in the least. They skipped to it; to the sounds of the water on the pavement, retracing the steps of their dance, and making plans for the next as the rain tapped along softly - tap, tap, tap.

\-- end.

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Song: “Every Time We Say Goodbye” - Ray Charles Ft. Betty Carter
> 
> YT link: https://youtu.be/GJRGynQG2sI
> 
> Lo-Fi hip-hop version - “When I’m Near U” by rainlord (the inspiration for this fic and it’s title)
> 
> YT link: https://youtu.be/mw3ztIjUFkY
> 
> \- When I heard this song I couldn’t help but imagine Arthur and Sophie singing and dancing to it (especially the last verse - Ray’s voice sounds so much like Joaquin’s). I’m such a sap. The lo-fi hip hop version made me think more about Sophie, and it even has the sound of rain and sirens in the background; a really Gotham-y feel. I feel both songs (and their styles) represent them. 
> 
> \- This is my first Joker fic. When I first saw Arthur and Sophie I thought they made a cute couple (if you take out the stalking bit). This is my attempt at a healthier meet for them. 
> 
> \- Thanks for reading :)


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